


Just Relax ~

by duchessofclarence



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofclarence/pseuds/duchessofclarence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An interpretation of George and Isabel's wedding night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Relax ~

**Author's Note:**

> I was very reluctant to post this because of the abuse that the Gisabel wedding night received ~ I was not disappointed with the version showed on TWQ series as I do believe that it would have been overall awkward, uncomfortable and downright painful for Isabel. There is no way that George and Isabel's wedding night would compare to that of Edward / Elizabeth and Anne / Richard because of the fact that both women had already lost their maidenhood at this point. I wanted to portray the awkward kind of relationship between these two in canon verse ~ I don't believe that George and Isabel would have had a decent sex life until after Margaret was born as their marriage kind of was consumed with turmoil for the first few years. It's just my own opinion and interpretation. original post: http://duchessisabelneville.tumblr.com/post/68291065543/just-relax-i-just-got-a-really-smutty-fluffy-feel

It was dark in the room, with the mere illumination of the few candles around the bed chamber as her conductor. It was so cold within the room that she could feel her breath come out like puffs of intricate smoke; it seemed as if the wood in the hearth had almost burnt out and it was mere embers that let out warmth into the stony room. Isabel had been satisfied to run over the cobblestones in her bare feet and crawl into the unfamiliar bed in order to draw the coverlets around her. It was his bed, and not hers. She had noticed how colossal it was in comparison to her own; but she was so accustomed to crawling into bed with her sister that being isolated in this unfamiliar room felt as if she had been stranded on a desert island on her own. Her ladies maids had left soon after she had been dressed for bed and she had been tempted to fall into slumber a few times as she awaited her new husband to arrive; instead she would paw at the coverlets and braid and unbraid her dark curls until she could feel her hands become numb with the cold that seemed to surround her so much, even underneath the blankets.

The door creaked to her left and she could feel her heart thump inside her chest so much that it could have been mistaken for pounding on wood; her petite hands shook as she watched him make his way across the room. Her new husband sat down on the chair nearest the fire and pulled his boots from his feet, all the while concentrating on removing his attire as she sunk further into the coverlets and went over all of the details that her mother had informed her of before the ceremony. Oh, how this was all so new to her and how she didn’t quite know how to act around him now. It was true that she had liked him since childhood, and they had been betrothed for some time, but he had never been more than a cousin and friend – now he was her husband. “It’s cold,” she said aloud, and she could have cursed herself. She had wanted to merely break the silence.

George lifted his head to look at his new bride whilst he continued the removal of his own attire; a small smile flitted across his troubled features. It was another minute or so before he finally rose from the little warmth that came from the fire and wandered over to the bed with a certain confidence in his stride. Isabel, on the other hand, felt as if she may faint before the actual deed was done as she carefully moved over so that there was room enough in the bed ~ not that it mattered much at all as his warmth surrounded her as soon as his body came into contact with hers. He did not lean his entire body weight on her and therefore it felt more like comforting warmth over her rather than suffocating her; it was actually a welcome transformation to the cold. She could not look at him somehow – her childhood friend and cousin – as she pulled at the hem of her own nightgown so that she could tug it over her knees carefully. Her hands shook so much that she could feel the covers almost quake around her due to her nerves; she pulled the hem of her crisp, white gown to her stomach.

Isabel’s eyes were half-closed now as she waited for the pain that would come with losing her maidenhood; her mother had described this certain pain to her before the ceremony and she knew that she must not panic about the blood, either. The pain did not come, however, as she waited and waited. “You’re shaking,” her husband commented from above her as he noted how his young bride trembled like a leaf in the wind. Isabel could feel her heart pound within her chest and she shook her head frantically; “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She seemed to trail off mid-sentence as she felt the warmth of his hand upon her ashen cheek and noticed the sad smile upon his handsome features. Her lashes fluttered closed as she concentrated on the sound of his steady breathing and the trail of warmth that his fingers left upon her skin. “There’s no need to be scared, Isabel. You know that I won’t hurt you, don’t you? Just relax,” he insisted. So inexperienced, but still she wanted to please him…to make him happy.

“It will hurt?” she asked him nervously. George only nodded his head sadly at her innocent question. “Will it hurt all the time?” she whispered. He shook his head this time; pleased that at least he would only have to go through this once before he was able to bed his wife without worrying that she was in sheer pain. “Should I kiss you?” she asked him between nervous breaths; not quite sure if she should merely lie there and let him get on with it or if she should contribute in some way. His smile was amused this time. “If you want,” was his short answer, but his tone was laced more with satisfaction now as the shaking somewhat subsided despite the fact that she still looked very nervous. The only kisses that had been shared between them thus far was once when she was a child and he had kissed her cheek when she was upset and once in their wedding ceremony.

She inched closer and closer to him, until finally, and very awkwardly, she was able to brush her lips against his in a rather chaste manner. It was one simple kiss; but it seemed to settle her immediately. How odd it was to kiss someone! Isabel could even admit to relishing this one kiss as his short stubble brushed against her chin and she could still taste the remnants of wine upon his tongue, which frighteningly seemed to touch hers now and then throughout this kiss [which she would now deem as their first real one]. It was hardly even noticeable that he had arranged his own body so stealthily that he easily entered her in one swift motion – she could not halt the inevitable whimper that tumbled from her lips against his. Isabel had never felt pain like it before: an almost unnatural pain that spread throughout her lower back. He seemed so large in comparison to her and she clutched onto his forearm as he settled within her.

Isabel could feel it then: the blood. It didn’t seem like much at all, but it was still a concern to the woman who could no longer be considered a maiden. “Just relax,” he murmured to her once more as her entire body seemed to stiffen at the intrusion. She trembled once more at the pain when he moved inside her: but his hand was upon her face again as he continued to support himself with his other arm. He delicately swept away the tears that had gathered in her eye with his thumb; tears that she hadn’t even noticed due to the pain. She did not count how many more times he moved within her; his lean body seeming to fit with hers perfectly each time he carefully pushed himself further inside his new bride. It was over quickly, however. He did not want to linger on his own pleasure; there was no room for experimentation or amusement when it came to taking one’s maidenhood. He could still feel how Isabel shook beneath him.

It was only when he was certain that he had released his seed within his poor, unfortunate wife that he removed himself from her. Isabel was still whenever he moved onto the other side of the bed; they were silent and she wasn’t quite sure what she was to utter next into the silence. Oh, how awkward the situation was and how she prayed that it would not be like this at all times ~ Isabel waited until his breathing had evened out before she was sure that he was asleep. She hadn’t moved a muscle until that moment; she scurried over across the huge bed so that she could curl herself against him. It could not be uncomfortable when he did not know, could it? She rested her dark curls against his shoulder and pulled the coverlets around him further to conceal his exposed chest; was this not supposed to be what a wife is to do for her husband?

He suddenly moved from his peaceful state and Isabel could have flinched as she waited for the repercussions of her actions – would she be told to leave the bed? Would she have to share a room with Anne still? As these questions haunted her, however, she hardly noticed that his arm had come around her protectively. In that moment, after all of the pain that came with losing her sheer innocence, she realised that perhaps it did not always have to be so uncomfortable between them. She would become accustomed to calling him husband and she would come to know him as such rather than George, who used to step on her skirts and pull on her braids when they were children. Just relax, he had told her, and she did so in that moment when all duty was forfeited.


End file.
